I remember what it is to be alive
To share the joy from the beauty
I’ve never met you - but here we have again and again
untitled
Fai_Ryy
occasionally subtle
Claire Keane
No title available
EXPECTATIONS
d e v o n
Monterey Bay Aquarium
The Stonewall Inn
No title available
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
official daine visual archive
cherry valley forever

blake kathryn
h
Interview Vampire Daily
sheepfilms

Origami Around
Phantogram Three
ojovivo
seen from Colombia
seen from Colombia
seen from India
seen from Spain

seen from United States

seen from Jamaica
seen from Romania
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Türkiye
seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from Türkiye

seen from Honduras

seen from Australia

seen from France
@tendermoments
I remember what it is to be alive
To share the joy from the beauty
I’ve never met you - but here we have again and again
I’m stuck in a haze again
If it’s meant to be I’ll see you later
Palestinians burning an Israeli flag in the Balata refugee camp, near Nablus. Photographed by Mohammed Ballas, 2000
iamdooom
the new heart I've been growing in my garden is at a strange and delicate stage of development
Edvard Munch (1863-1944), The Woman and the Heart
sometimes when I’m really sad I come on this silly little website and feel I am not alone
i’ve been reading again, like I did as a child.
I feel disconnected in some ways. I’m lacking community. I do and don’t want to seek it. I think the responsibility scares me. I’ve never been the best at maintaining friendships.
But the loneliness envelops me sometimes.
Sometimes I don’t mind it, I feel as though the guilt of being alone weighs me down more than being alone itself.
I’m alone constantly. Right now the most social interaction I receive is from my partner, even then I feel him drifting away. I can not blame him. Things between us feels like a smile we’re trying to hold, but our cheeks hurt and the smile isn’t quite reaching our eyes. If you look closely you see the sadness in both of ours. We’ve been through a lot. I think we’re both lost. We don’t want to lose one another. We know the depths of one another like no other, but there is something that lingers creating a gap that can never really fill itself in. The connection comes and goes.
I want to write again. I think the reading will help me get there.
goodnight now. sweet dreams to all sweet beings far and wide. may your hearts remain true.
The plate, the proof. Can’t wait to print the edition this week!
The text is from my grandmother’s poetry from WWII and reads, “Torment, Nostalgia, I miss home.”
A few seconds from the 5th of October 2024
Morning mist: threadleaf Japanese maple tree, Princeton, New Jersey, 2016 - by Josh Friedman, American